


Secret Crush

by RayearthHikaru



Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dark, DmC Devil May Cry, Drama, F/M, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1960545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayearthHikaru/pseuds/RayearthHikaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret crushes are always the hardest ones to manage, especially if the person you fall in love with is none other than your boss.<br/>A guy so immersed into his job and with the sole desire to save the world from the demons and their terrible brainwash. Someone apparently so unreachable, yet closer than you may think.<br/>He is caring, sympathetic and respectful, believing in you like nobody ever did so far. And you can't help but wish to be the reason of that beautiful, sexy smile of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Devil May Cry is another obsession of mine and I'm one of those people who actually LOVED the reboot game even more. Enjoy ^_^

Sweat. Fear. Panic. Pain.

Another one of your recurring nightmares, or you should simply call it a painful memory.

You remove the sheets from your body with a shaking hand as you sit on the edge of the suddenly unconfortable bed, your tiptoes meeting the cold brick floor and a shiver running along your hurting spine like a sharp knife sticking in your skin.

The alarm clock on your bedside table will ring in an hour, but you are not going back to sleep anyway. Not now, not after your umpteenth nightmare.

Taking a quick shower in your private bathroom you wash away the sweat and the burning of your tortured skin, where a pair of old and silvery scars scratch the back of your hand when you touch them.

You still remember that distant day as if it were yesterday.

Those bloodshot eyes, those fangs, those claws, that booming voice...

A facade, a lie.

That thing keeps hunting your dreams even now that you are not a child anymore, now that you work for _The Order_ , a top secret organization built to fight and destroy all the monsters like the one you once met. The one that destroyed your childhood and scared you for life.

Wearing your daily clothes and tying your hair up you're ready to start a new day of intense work, tiptoeing in your small office not to wake your colleagues with the sound of your heels.

Always the same routine; turn the computer on, make some order on your messy desk full of old reports and notes, search for codes, blocked pages, reserved servers and other not so legal stuff.

Working for The Order is an authentic pleasure for you, though. For the very first time you don't feel completely useless and powerless, you finally have the chance to show your value and capacities, mostly to yourself.

Your family is not aware of your role in this, you're not allowed to talk about it. However, your parents seem to be finally proud of you in a way. You managed to get an important job, after thirteen long years of suffering and different psychological therapies.

You are not as crazy as you thought to be. Thanks to that mysterious masked man who appeared in your small TV one day, six months ago or so, you finally discovered the horrible yet satisfying truth about your misadventure.

The man who saved you from the depths and brought you back to light, who gave you the hope you had lost and helped you to believe in yourself like you never did before.

All thanks to Vergil, your boss and secret crush.

When you think about the almost imperceptible smile he shows to you when you deliver your reports in his giant office, your heart becomes extremely light and you don't even know how your legs manage to support you each time. You just can't help but getting lost into his wonderful blue eyes, the same eyes that captivated you the first time you saw them, when he removed the white mask he uses during his short broadcasts. When you heard him talk about demons in public, you immediatly understood where you actually belonged to. He was looking for people like you, who believed in demons and wished for a better world without deception and slavery.

And now here you are, peering in the government's private files and breaking codes.

The Order has many collaborators and different tasks to achieve everyday and Vergil found you more appropriate for the hacking location even giving you your own office. When he heard you speak about technical data and complicated computer stuff he didn't hesitate a single moment, thinking you were absolutely perfect for what he wanted to accomplish.

He sometimes stops by and discusses about electronic components and drivers with you. You actually find your conversations very interesting and productive, he often suggests you valid alternatives if your system doesn't seem to run the way it should.

You totally have a weakness for nerds, apparently... and if they are as handsome as Vergil is better yet.

He is not going to ask you out or anything, you know that. A guy like him, so busy and concentrated on his plan to save the world, would never find the time, nor the interest, to invite a woman out to dinner.

And honestly he is way too much for someone like you. He wears clothes that you will never be able to afford, he is so kind and a very well-mannered guy. Not to mention he probably is the hottest one out there and just for this reason unreachable.

You sigh, your eyes glued to the screen as you insert a bunch of complicated lines in the black window that appears, your mind still immersed in your nightmare with those big and disturbing red eyes. Your fingers shake over the keys and you accidentally press the wrong one a few times, but at least you can now keep your brain busy enough, trying to forget the painful memory that caused you serious psychological damages and destroyed your childhood.

You have become stronger now, you can do it.

And you instantly relax when you think that nothing is going to hurt you again in this more than safe place. You are not left alone in your protective shell anymore.

You have friends you can count on and a very thoughtful, caring boss who will never make you fall.

Keeping your attention over the scrolling white texts, a silent presence passes through the doorway and approaches without you even noticing. A white cup full of steaming coffee is laid on your desk, a familiar gloved hand holding it as a black embroidered sleeve comes into view.

And a delicious scent invades your senses.

“I thought you might need it,” a warm voice echoes softly into the room. “You are early, today.”

With a strong feeling of butterflies in your stomach you raise your head, meeting a pair of intense and beautiful blue irises. A small smile forming on those soft lips of his and you have to thank the fact that you're already sitting, because you know that this time your knees wouldn't be able to stand anymore.


	2. Caring boss

  
You try to stabilaze your brain in order to give a proper answer, your throat is just as dry as an arid desert.

“I... couldn't sleep any longer,” you state, controlling the awkward shaking in your voice as best as you can.

Vergil studies your face for a brief moment. “Your nightmares?”

An inevitable shock appears in your eyes. “What... how do you...?”

“Kat told me,” he explains. “I've been watching over you for a while now.”

You bite your lower lip in shame and confusion, the one you consider your best friend betrayed you so easily after you confided in her. Nobody knows about your past nor recurring nightmares, hunting you like a terrible curse for thirteen years now. Sometimes they just stop all of a sudden and release your mind, but when you least expect it they are back again, stronger and darker than they used to be.

Being a medium, Kat was the only one you could refer to and you even begged her to not talk about your little secret with anyone at The Order, Vergil first and foremost.

And she immediatly ran to tell him. Shit.

“Don't be mad at her,” Vergil says, clearly sensing your disappointment. “Kat was quite worried about you and for this reason she thought that telling me was probably the best option. Whatever happens you are under my responsability in this place, the last thing I want is leaving you in trouble without lifting a finger.”

You don't know whether to feel happy about his attentions or terribly mortified for being considered a victim.

You sigh. “Vergil, it's fine. I appreciate your concern for me, but there is nothing to worry about.”

You lift the coffee cup that he kindly made for you, its warmth feels nice on the back of your cold hands.

“Your paleness and the visible weariness on your face tell me otherwise.”

You look at him again with a faint smile. “I'm kinda used to this, really... it's not a big deal.”

He doesn't look convinced at all, so he continues. “If what Kat told me is true, in my opinion it is.”

You stare at the hot liquid into the cup, your turmoil reflected over its surface.

“This is my fault. I always expect the best from you and I take your efficiency for granted. Please, forgive my unseemly behavior.”

His words uncontrollably hammer your brain, the fear of being downgraded for your psychological state with no apparent reason.

“Don't say that! You're not responsible for my nightmares! And I never complained for what I do here...”

You never will, that's for sure.

“I know. But if you need a couple days off just let me know.”

“I don't.”

“But-”

“Vergil, please.”

Taking a deep breath you close your eyes. He is still your boss after all and you are not supposed to disrespect him only because this speech is taking a turn for the worse. You actually hate talking about your nightmares, but Vergil rescued you from a miserable life and doesn't deserve to be treated as your illusive punching bag.

Not when he is just speaking about your own good in spite of everything.

He keeps looking straight in your eyes, his expression is not even harsh after your interruption, but still very soft and full of evident concern.

He, the tough guy that never shows a single weakness, the boss you always admired and perceived so far away from you notwithstanding his kindness.

Your heart skips a beat and you tighten the cup on your lap.

“My job here is the only thing I have. Spending a day or two away from my duty would just make things even worse.”

He carefully listens to your words, his right hand lying on the desk next to a pile of papers.

“Working here is my cure.”

After what seems like an eternity for you, he speaks again. “I see. I cannot force you to do something against your will. However, I'd like you to feel free to talk with me any time you want. I don't know much about your past, so I am afraid I can't help you with your nightmares either. Yet, In case you need, you know exactly where to find me.”

At first you are almost tempted to throw your arms around his neck and bury your face in his clothed chest, but then you compose yourself, smiling like the decent woman you have always been.

“Okay,” you answer with a smile. “I will remember that.”

“Good.”

An electric shock passes through your guts when his gloved fingers brush against your shoulder. He leaves you there, in your silent office, with a lost expression and rampant heart.

“Vergil?”

He turns to you again before crossing the doorway. “Yes?”

You pause, not sure about what you actually wanted to tell him. You called his name by reflex, without really thinking about it.

And now he's waiting for you to say anything.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you manage to say.

Vergil, on his part, responds with a cute chuckle that makes your cheeks burn as if they were on fire.

“Anytime.”

And he disappears behind the door, leaving you alone and definitely more relaxed.


	3. Skills

  
“Listen, I'm deeply sorry.”

You stare at your medium friend as you chew a piece of sandwich during your lunch break, you both sitting in your small, but very comfortable office.

“I didn't want to blurt out your personal matters. I just thought that Vergil might be more helpful than I could.”

You swallow. “I'm not mad at you, Kat. It's just that I am afraid he will consider me unsuitable for this kind of job, sooner or later.”

“Mind if I ask you why?”

“Maybe because I'm psychologically unstable?”

Kat seems to consider your words for a second, then shakes her head as a 'no' answer. “Vergil always speaks well of you. He appreciates your efforts and likes the way you do your job here. I don't think he considers you psychologically unstable and honestly, I don't either. You are kinda strong, if I may.”

You place the remaining sandwich back in its wrapping, your appetite suddenly gone. “Yeah, for now. But what if these nightmares won't stop anytime soon?”

“That's why I talked to Vergil. He could help.”

“How?”

He clearly stated that he's not able to help you with your nightmares, especially without knowing a single thing about your past experience.

“Vergil knows how to deal with demons,” Kat tells.

“This is not an ordinary demon. We are talking about a memory, not a physical form,” you point out.

Unless he enters your dreams and kills the bitch for you. That would be just awesome and definitely helpful. As if.

“He could tell you how to deal with it. Trust me... and most importantly trust Vergil.”

“I do trust him... and you. I trust both of you. It's just...”

You have spent a huge part of your life dealing with therapists of any kind without success. Talking about that event again would bring back to the surface what you have tried to suppress for a long time.

But what if Kat is right? Vergil is not a therapist and certainly not an ordinary guy either. If you talked with him you could find a valid solution, something that any psychologist could discover.

And they never believed a single word of your story, considering it just a disturbing childhood fantasy.

Why not, then?

Because everytime you are in Vergil's presence, you even forget how to breathe and your own name, that is why.

“I will think about it.”

Kat reassures you with a silent smile, before stealing your abandoned sandwitch from the table and unwrapping it again.

“You're not finishing it, are you?”

You smile back playfully and quickly shake your head.

\---------------------------------------------------

You stare at the small vial between your fingers, the results of the tests you secretly performed over the yellow liquid dangling from your other hand.

You don't know wether to smile in satisfaction or snort in disappointment.

Considering you are not a scientist, you can't decode every single line written on the papers. However, you are smart enough to understand the substance in the little glass container you are holding is infected.

You had that crazy idea tormenting you for a while and you acted on impulse without saying a word about your plan, not to Kat, nor Vergil.

And this might probably cost you your place in the organization.

After all, you are supposed to work with digital codes in front of your computer screen, instead of running random scientific tests like a terrorist in disguise.

Yet, what you have found out is not a trivial matter. What you need to do now is find the courage to confess your subterfuge, something easier said than done.

\---------------------------------------------------

You have never been as confused as you are now.

You enter Vergil's office together with your colleagues, every single collaborator of The Order convened in that room for some unknown reason. Your boss, with Kat beside him, patiently waits right next to a big computer screen, his katana sword, _Yamato_ , placed against the main desk across the room like an imperial scepter. The massive chair behind the large glass table decorates the room with its angels sculptures on each side, the feature of the two female creatures carved in stone catches your eye everytime you see them, giving the office that gothic touch that you just adore.

You all stop before the elegant man, who welcomes his team with a very soft smile.

That's strange.

Vergil is always quite reserved, never partecipates directly even though he works a lot and keeps an eye on everyone's tasks all the time. None of you was expecting a similar convocation.

“Good afternoon. Thank you all for coming right away,” Vergil says as the big iron door behind you closes automatically. “I know this might be unexpected and definitely unusual, but we all are a team here. I think it's time to receive some useful updates from me about the current situation.”

Excitement and restlessness are the only things you can see over your coworkers' faces, everyone just as surprised as you for this meeting with Vergil.

“As you already know, the demons are controlling practically every single area in town with no troubles. With our resources and capacities we can spy them and break into their private systems, but this is not enough to stop their dirty plans, it seems. Not yet at least.”

You all nod in silence, captivated by Vergil's manners and professional way of talking.

His skilled gloved fingers press a bunch of keys and a series of texts and various pictures appear on the computer screen.

He turns to the group again. “People are putting their trust into the wrong things. The demons are brainwashing manking with their fake intentions and silly concepts.”

For a brief moment you feel like Vergil's eyes are directed on you, but then you mentally slap yourself for acting like a schoolgirl struggling with her crush in such a moment. You are at work, for God's sake!

“We have to adopt new tactics, hit directly where it hurts.”

The more you try to concentrate, the more you fail like an idiot. Why he has to be so damn sexy, you wonder?

“We have to identify their source of power. You are all doing an amazing job here, but we currently need a brand new plan.”

You put aside your indecent considerations when realization hits you, earnestness back to control your mind.

You have to find a new weak spot, a source, which would allow you to weaken the demons and stop their mind control on humans once and for all. You remember what you have secretly worked on in the last week, what you have discovered with discretion and confidentiality.

Something you did on your own, without consulting your boss before starting.

“Does anyone of you have something relevant to suggest?”

You bite your tongue, an annoying buzz fills the air as your colleagues and friends mumble among themselves. From what you can hear, it looks like not one of them is going to propose anything useful and Vergil silently stands in front of his squad waiting with patience for an answer.

You were looking for the right time to finally shrive your own plan and now here it is. You are not supposed to take initiatives without properly talking with him, though... and this makes you quite hesitant, your voice stuck on the back of your throat.

Yet, what you have in your hands might seriously be a turning point.

Oh well, now or never.

“I-I think I have an idea... or two,” you stutter, instantly regretting your decision when about fifty pair of eyes rest on you with curiousity.

Vergil's magnetic blue irises included.

“Go ahead,” he intimates you.

_Shit._

“Well, uhm... I made a quick research among trade statistics,” you explain, nervously torturing your fingers. “It looks like the new drink on the market, the _Virility_ , is the best selling product at the moment.”

The left corner of his mouth raises imperceptibly, but you can still notice it.

Was he expecting this?

“So I... I decided to... run a simple test over this drink. I didn't say anything because I wanted to be completely sure about it, but I purchased a can and analyzed the liquid contained in it.”

Exclamations of astonishment resound into the big room. With the corner of your eye you behold Kat, who didn't even move an inch since you arrived. Her pink lips are curved into a reassuring smile.

Vergil's smirk somehow grows bigger as well. “What did you discover?”

You take a deep breath. “I am not a scientist, but the liquid I took from the can is definitely not normal. Something is wrong with it, as if... as if it was...”

“Poisoned?”

Again, you have a feeling that Vergil was planning everything since the very beginning. He knew about Virility, probably even before your brain told you something was terribly wrong with this product.

You continue anyway. “Yes. I compared it with a standard energy drink and this Virility looks a bit altered, even though I can't tell anything at all about it.”

“Interesting.”

Vergil is so calm, relaxed, even satisfied, if possible. He's not mad for your insubordinate behavior, or is he?

“For that reason I thought the _Virility Factory_ could be one of those sources you're searching for, together with the _Raptor News Network_ , which has strangely become the most watched channel lately.”

But what if you're wrong? What if you caught a crab instead? You wouldn't be able to look at him for the rest of your miserable life.

Vergil, however, breaks all your worries with some claps of his gloved hands, the smile that forms over his inviting lips is just too much to handle and you have to prevent your knees from becoming jellies and make you fall miserably on the floor.

“I couldn't expect otherwise from you.”

You can't help but blush inexorably.

“Now we have a new starter point.”

Of course you are happy about his reaction, but a part of you just cannnot stop thinking that he's done all of this on purpose, as if to test his collaborators, or you in particular.

If you have learned to know Vergil at least a little bit during the last months, you can tell that nothing goes unnoticed to him and there always is a valid reason behind his every single action.

Sneaky? Maybe.

You turn on your heels when Vergil dismisses the group of confused and annoyed workers, but your name spoken with his warm voice freezes you in your tracks.

“Stay, there is an important matter we need to discuss.”

Damn.

He probably wants to reproach you for what you have done with that Virility thing. Vergil is a man of respect, mannered and understanding, he probably didn't want to scold you in front of your friends and helpers.

Resigned, you turn to him again, ready to face your deserved punishment.

When everyone is gone and the iron doors close again behind them, you squeeze your hands into fists along your sides.

“Now that you are here alone, I-”

“I'm deeply sorry!” You interrupt him, too embarrassed to even look at his beautiful face. “I know, I was supposed to consult you before acting on my own.“

“What...?”

“I promise something like that will never happen again!”

Oh gosh, how can you stop your pounding heart now?

“Wait, I do-”

“I only wanted to be helpful, but I understand if you are disappointed...”

A pair of warm hands grab your tense shoulders gently, his distinct and elegant shape so close to you as those aquamarine eyes make you drown again.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I am not reproaching you, if this is what you believe.”

“But...”

“I already knew what you were working on, I'm not surprised.”

_What?_

“Honestly, I was wondering when you would tell me.”

That's it, then. Your suspects were correct.

“You were aware of that, right? You knew about Viritily and even Raptor.”

Taking his hands off your shoulders – much to your disappointment – he nods hesitantly. “Yes.”

“That was a test,” you observe. “You wanted me to speak out.”

“I apology.”

Even if you would react differently in another kind of situation, now you can't suppress the relief that pervades your body. How many times had he watched you from afar? You almost blush at the mere thought.

You sigh, a reassuring smile forming on your pink lips. Smile that your boss welcomes with a similar one, just more beautiful and crippling than ever. The fears you had just a moment ago completely gone.

“Now that we made everything clear, there still is something very important we need to talk about.”

Oh, right.

“What is it?”

Vergil approaches the computer again, silently typing on the keyboard. You stare at the screen, a bunch of incomprehensible pictures flow in front of your eyes.

“It's about me,” he says, his gaze glued on the new images.

You blink in confusion when Kat finally steps closer and encircles your wrist with her tattoed fingers in a friendly touch.

“Kat?”

“Listen carefully,” she whispers.

Okay, you are a bit lost at this point.

“Vergil? What is it about?” You ask again.

“It's about my story.”

When he looks back at you, you can perceive a strange shadow falling over him. The light of gentleness usually visible on his angelic face, now trasformed into something more similar to hatred and sorrow.

“You will know everything you need to learn about where I come from and what I really am.”

You always thought he might have a dark past as well. His experience in demonology and occultism is way too remarkable and must necessarily derive from something specific. Where does he come from? How did he get this amount of knowledge? And, most importantly, what happened to him?

Seeing him like this, so vulnerable, with such a gloomy glaze, you suddenly realize how important Vergil actually is to you. What you were considering a simple crush, meaningless and short-term, has mutated in something more significant... that you never felt for anyone else before.

You step forward, Kat's hand releasing your wrist in the process. The sound of your heels echoes in the big room, piercing the deathly silence.

You stop in front of him, the left corner of your mouth a bit raised, as a soft lock of hair slips on your face. Unconsciously, you lift your hand and place it on his right bicep, feeling the cotton fabric of his black coat against your skin.

“I'm all ears.”

Eventually, that light of goodness to which you have become fond, reappears in those wonderful blue pools of his for your delight.


	4. Truth and trust

“There are still many things you have to know about the world I come from.”

You watch your boss as he starts up a digital slideshow previously prepared. A series of conceptual pictures occupies the entire screen, lighting up the big room with their mixed colors.

“Let's start from the beginning now, shall we?”

You examine every single image that slowly flows in front of your eyes. They all look like a bunch of stylized sketches, but the abstract subjects and strange atmospheres painted on the white backgrounds are so magnetic that you get lost in every depicted detail.

“There once was a war, nine millenia ago. A bloody battle split in two factions. On the one hand there were the demons, on the other... angels.”

You blink in confusion, figuring that what you are looking at represents Vergil's story from an artistic point. “Wait, you're telling me that angels are real as well...?”

He chuckles. “Are you surprised?”

After a moment of disbelief you simply smile, contemplating the wonderful wings that take form on those painted silhouettes' back. “No.”

Demons aren't suppose to be real, yet they are. Should you really be surprised learning that even angels exist? Not at all.

“There is one demon, the most powerful and cruelest ever existed, who raised from the ranks and took power over the dark hordes. This demon's name is _Mundus_ , but you may know him as _Kyle Ryder_.”

That name definitely rings a bell. “Kyle Ryder? You mean, the CEO Kyle Ryder? The one who runs the _Silver Sacks Tower_?!”

Vergil nods. “Exactly”

The world's most powerful investment bank is run by a demon and not even an ordinary one.

How many things you still ignore about this fake existence?

“Lovely.”

“Everything started when Mundus' blood brother, a demon called _Sparda_ , fell in love with an angel, _Eva_. Mundus never accepted their union and he hunted the lovers down with the mere purpose of killing them both.”

“He wanted to kill his own brother?”

“I told you he's cruel. It was like a stab in the back for Mundus and, brother or not, Sparda was only a vile traitor to him.”

You suppress a shiver when the horrible creature from your nightmares – no, memories – suddenly forms again in your confused mind. If this Mundus is really the cruelest demon out there, it means that the one you met at the age of seven was nothing in comparison.

“Are you okay?”

Vergil's gloved fingers brush over your shoulder when he notices your tense posture; arms around yourself in a protective way, nails driven into the sleeves of your shirt.

“If you think this is too much-”

“No, “ you answer, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “No, I'm fine. What happened then?”

“Sparda and Eva managed to stay hidden for a while,” he explains, fingers leaving your shoulder and resting back on the keyboard. ”Their union generated new life... and this is where my own story begins.”

Vergil looks at you, silently, eyes filled with concern and expectation. It takes you a while to process what he just said.

“Where your story begins...? Sparda is your father...?”

“Yes.”

“But this means that you are not... human.”

“...yes.”

“And if Sparda is Mundus' brother, then...”

“That is right.”

Vergil is not human. Vergil has demonic and angelic blood in his body. Mundus, the most terrible demon existing, is none other than Vergil's uncle.

_What the flying fuck...?_

“I am nothing like Mundus, of course. I am a _Nephilim_ , a hybrid with both species inside of me.”

When you were a little girl, you used to read plenty of books before sleeping and in your spare time. From what you can recall, a Nephilim was described as a human being strengthened by the angelic blood running through his veins.

Apparently, not only Nephilim exist, but they are slightly different from the ones reported in your childhood books.

And you always thought that Vergil didn't really look like a common guy... your sensations weren't that wrong, after all.

“You're afraid of me now.” Not a question, but a statement.

You joilt. “Wha- no!”

“I don't blame you if you are. You have been scared of demons for so long and now you discover that a part of me belongs to their race.”

Demon blood flows in Vergil's veins, but why all you can feel next to him is this sense of calm, safety and piece?

Because, since you became a part of this big family at The Order, Vergil has treated you with care and respect, as if you were a precious thing to protect, but without diminishing your abilities not even once.

And because you know that he would never hurt you in any way, not after months in which he could have done anything to you if he wanted.

You trust Vergil. For the very first time in your life, you have found someone to believe in and care about outside your family. If you once were a bit afraid of this kind of feeling, now you happily accept it.

“Vergil, I've been scared because a demon almost killed me when I was a child,” this is the first time you actually mention it out loud with him. “But you.. you are nothing like that.”

He is not as ugly, massive, bloodthirsty and thorny like the monster you once faced. Though you have learned not to trust external facades, you're pretty sure nothing bad is hiding behind those beautiful eyes of his.

You blush inexorably when a new, breathtaking smile, forms over his inviting lips.

You clear your throat. “So... I'd like to know more, if possible.”

You want to know everything, all that he has to tell about himself.

“Okay.”

Shifting his gaze over the computer again, he puts the slideshow aside and a picture that you guess represents Mundus ruling over smaller figures (demons? Humans? You can't tell) fades away as a new directory containing a bunch of recent articles opens on the screen.

“Have you ever heard about a certain _Dante_?”

You tap your chin with a finger in a thoughtful way. “I think I did. Not sure I remember where, though.”

You cannot find a television in the whole structure and you never read newspaper articles because they are usually filled with crap and fake stuff.

“Look.”

An article published last week by the Raptor News Network appears after a simple click, revealing a set of critical lines under an alarming title. There is a picture in the middle of the page and you frown as soon as you take a look at the person printed on the article, slowly getting closer to the screen.

It cannot be.

“Vergil...” you say with a faint voice. “He looks exactly like you!”

“He's my brother,” he confirms. “My twin brother, to be precise.”

You now remember where you heard that name. You actually read it when you found the same article while surfing the net, but you didn't linger on it too much and closed the page before even looking at the guy's face, which makes him look just like Vergil with a dark mohawk hairstyle instead of his slicked back silver hair.

“ **Terrorist wanted!** ” The title says.

“Woah...”

You never thought that Vergil could have a brother. You always pictured him like an only child, used to not share anything with anyone.

“The Raptor News is following his every move, describing him as a terrorist and sexual deviant. Of course he's not, that is only a tactic to keep him under control.”

You can't help but wonder what exactly happened to Vergil and what made the two brothers end up this way.

However, you already have a possible suspect.

“Mundus killed your parents. Didn't he?” You ask with a slight hesitation.

Vergil pauses for a second, probably unsure wether to answer or not. “He killed our mother, yes,” he says then. “She gave her life to save us both, heart ripped from her chest in a blink of an eye.”

A sense of nausea rises in your throat, stomach squeezed in a painful vise hearing such a tragedy.

“Our father decided to hide us, Dante and me... wiping our memories to protect us and keep us away from Mundus' rage.”

Of course something as bad did happen, you were talking about a demon, not cute and innocent pink bunnies. What were you thinking when you asked him that question?

“I haven't seen my brother since then. I've been adopted by a rich family, but Dante got the worst fate. Mundus doesn't know I exist, he believes that Dante is the only child born from that inconceivable union.”

Kat, who stayed silent until now – to the point you almost forgot about her presence – steps next to you and points a finger over the screen. “ _Bob Barbas_ , the lead voice of the Raptor Network, is a demon too. Not particularly strong, but he's crafty and directly connected with Mundus' Tower.”

Your head is seriously starting to ache, definitely too many informations at once.“Well, it all makes sense now,” you state. “But Vergil, you said that your father erased your memories, didn't you?”

Vergil nods his head. “Correct.”

“And yet, you remember everything now.”

“I recovered my memory at some point, yes. But Dante... he still needs our help to remember.”

All the puzzle pieces are finally in place. Demons didn't come out from nowhere, they have always been around controlling the planet and all of you.

As if that wasn't enough, there even is a sort of demon king who's enslaving manking unbeknownst to everyone, using a public network and a contaminated drink to keep humans docile.

The same demon is related to Vergil, which appears to have a twin brother who needs to be rescued as well.

“What about Sparda? Where is he now?”

“Banished forever. Mundus decided to torture him, make him suffer as a punishment instead of killing him like he had originally planned.”

Your expression darkens. Is this the price to pay if you fall in love with someone you shouldn't care about? Is this what happens if you contradict a demon and try to live your life according to your own choices?

Their family was swept away like a bunch of leaves in the wind, is there still a bit of justice in this rotten world?

“I decided to tell you this because I trust you and I think you have all the rights to know what is going on.”

Your eyes meet his deep blue gems again, your heart beats so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“I understand your shock and confusion, I don't expect you to jump for joy after what you discovered. Take your time to think about it and to work out what you have learned today.”

Your brain will probably explode by the end of the day, but you feel quite flattered to know that Vergil has such a high regard for you to the point of confide his secrets.

Secrets that only Kat, his right arm and most trusted collaborator, was aware of until now.

“I only hope you will still be willing to help us...”

You consider his words for a second. A demon destroyed your childhood and almost took your life away. Demons are trying to destroy mankind, if not the whole world to mold it in their distorted dimension. And, most importantly, one of them teared Vergil's existence apart and forced him to separate from the only family left. How could you not be willing to help after all of this?

“Of course I'm going to help you!”

A surprised expression appears on Vergil's face, probably for your quick answer and the ease with which you just replied.

“This is my home now... I'm not going to turn my back so easily and walk away. For what it's worth, you can still count on me, Vergil,” you turn, looking at Kat with the same determination in your eyes. “You both can.”

The angles of the medium's pink lips raised in the brightest smile she ever shown to you, her gaze full of gratitude for your unexpected words.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Vergil says in what sounds like a sigh of relief. “I wasn't sure about your final decision. Honestly, I thought you'd neeed to reconsider your position in this.”

You get it now. He thought there was at least a tiny possibility that you would have given up on everything, packing your things and leaving this place to get away from him and all this crap.

You have nothing. Aside from your family (who doesn't even know what your job is about), you have only The Order, with Vergil and Kat.

Without thinking, you lift the hand that was resting on the computer desk and carefully place it on Vergil's chest, right where his heart is. He doesn't move a muscle, keeping his gaze over you with what appear to be a pair of... hungry eyes...?

Wiping that ridiculous thought away you deeply sigh, fingertips brushing lightly on the embroidered fabric of his coat. “I'm sorry for what you've been through.”

Surprisingly, you feel his gloved fingers touching the back of your hand, then the same fingers increase their hold, warm latex against your sensitive skin.

You never had such a contact with him before, you're probably going to melt soon.

“Forgive me if I doubted you for a moment,” he speaks. “You can be sure that will not happen a second time.”

You mentally protest when his fingers release you, the warmth on your hand giving way to a breath of cold.

“It's okay, Vergil. I understand.” You step back and reluctantly leave his personal space - realizing you have invaded it a bit too much - hand falling back along your side.

And you can't erase this feeling of flying butterflies in your painful stomach, especially when Vergil stares at you in that unusual and inexplicable way.  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You watch the recently repainted ceiling as you lay on your bed with the white sheets up to your neck, your body deliciously warm and brain in motion.

Vergil's words echo in your head like a home movie sent forward to the bitter end, telling a story you once would have found hard to believe, but that now makes even more sense to you.

He's been completely honest, reviving all the bad memories that remained buried in his mind for so many years before recovering them. 

What about you? You always have kept your secrets well protected, simply too afraid to even mention them with anyone.

But aren't you tired of running away from your memory as if that demon was right behind the corner, chasing you after thirteen years and ready to strike again?

You are, indeed. Vergil has proved to trust you, so you could do the same and open up with him regarding your nightmares. What if this was actually his true intention since the very beginning? What if he simply tried to show you that you can trust him no matter what?

Perhaps the time to receive a real, concrete help from someone who cares about the whole thing has finally come.

With these active thoughts and heart in turmoil, you gradually fall asleep in a dreamless world enveloped by darkness.

And for the first time after weeks, no nightmares for you tonight.


	5. Affection

_You hesitantly step into the big room as you nervously play with your very cold fingers, doors just opened automatically after a retinal scan, the hoodied and slender girl who picked you up midway anticipates you as you follow._

_“She's here,” You hear the stranger woman say, silently walking behind her with a hint of apprehension._

_To be honest, you started regretting your decision the moment when put your jacket on, but a part of you was dying to know what this secret Organization is plotting, constantly mentioning the existence of demons through a masked man on sudden public broadcasts._

_The same man that stands in front of you now, face hidden by the familiar, creepy white mask._

_You swallow._

_“Welcome to The Order,” he speaks, the voice a bit soffocated behind the plastic material, but clearly not altered by any kind of device._

_You simply nod, waiting._

_“You want anything? A cup of coffee, or some tea perhaps?”_

_You shake your head. “No, thanks. I'm good.”_

_Polite he is._

_“Well then, I suppose you want me to explain what The Order stands for, but I have to ask you something first.”_

_“Like what?”_

_The masked man elegantly shifts his weight on the cane he's holding with both his gloved hands, which actually is, you soon discover, a sheathed katana sword. The carved hild is unmistakable, as well as its form._

_“Why are you here?”_

_You pause, staring at the black embroidered coat he's wearing. Quite a beautiful coat, you must admit, it surely costs a fortune._

_“What do you mean?” You ask, confusion visibly spread along your face._

_“You came here for a reason,” he answers. “What is it?”_

_Should you tell them what happened to you when you were only seven years old? Will they believe you or consider you an unbalanced person, just like your own family and past doctors?_

_“The words spoken in your broadcasts are kinda strong and... significant,” you state. “I want to know what these demons you talk about are... and what you guys actually want to accomplish.”_

_Though you can't see the man's eyes - hidden behind two black crosses painted over the mask - you can feel his piercing look over you._

_“Demons... what are they according to you?”_

_Is it an interrogation?_

_“It depends on the context.”_

_“What context?”_

_“Listen, can't we just get to the point? I came here looking for answers, you know. Not to give them.”_

_Despite your annoyance, he continues. “Do you believe in demons?”_

_“As I said, it depends.”_

_“It's a yes or no question.”_

_“Then yes! Happy now?”_

_You bite your tongue realizing what you have just done. Your eyes stay locked on the creepy mask, the large toothed smile seems to laugh at you with superiority._

_Is he talking about the same frightening creatures that ruined your childhood and left a bunch of scars not only on your skin, but also in your soul?_

_After what seemed an endless moment of silence, he finally speaks again. “That's interesting.”_

_“In a good or bad way...?” You ask, anxiety impossible to suppress._

_“It's good, of course. Exactly what I was hoping for.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“I will tell you everything. What we do, what is actually happening, every question of yours will find an answer. But first tell me, are you willing to fight beside us, to save the human world from the demons and their brainwash?”_

_For your entire life you have tried to forget about that traumatic event, avoiding to stare at your scarred skin reflected in the mirror. Now you have found someone who apparently believes in your words and in demons as well. Even if you don't know a single thing about their plan, nor who they are, this is more than enough to trust them._

_“I'd do anything to sweep them away.”_

_The man in front of you lends the sheathed sword to the hoodied girl, who immediatly takes it from his hands and wraps it against her chest. Then, you curiously watch him as a hand takes a hold of the white mask, the other slides behind his head to grab the supportive band. A sigh escapes his lips when the object is finally out of the way._

_“Looks like we earned a new collaborator, Kat.” His wonderful blue eyes glitter in the dark room, illuminated just by the light of countless screens. “My name is Vergil.”_

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chewing a handful of cereals you smile to yourself. Dreaming about your first encounter with your boss is definitely better than reliving your childhood memory.  
You rarely eat in the morning, stomach twisisted due to the bad sleep, but today you woke up with a ravenous hunger, calling you with a desperate wail after a well deserved healthy rest.

“Good morning.”

You raise your look from the bowl of cereals, spoon still in mid-air in your right hand.

Vergil is staring at you from under a black fedora you've never seen before. That, combined with the rest of his look and the Yamato sword in his left hand, makes him even more attractive than he usually is, whereas you probably resemble a ludicrous fish, silently returning his gaze with open mouth.

You surely weren't expecting to see him in the common dining room, still empty and silent, where he never stops by not even for a quick drink.

You slowly put the spoon back in your bowl, where your food is already drowning in the fresh milk. You blush with embarrassment, abruptly clenching your jaw.

“Good morning, Vergil. Nice hat.”

The left corner of his mouth raises forming a grin. “It's rather unusual to see you here at this time. Typically you head straight to your office drinking some coffee, the rare occasions when you remember to have some breakfast before diving into the work.”

He clearly is aware about your bad habits too. Why you're not surprised?

You laugh nervously. “Yeah, well... I was hungry.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Strangely, yes.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

You absently grab the spoon again, stirring the now soggy cereals into the cold liquid. “Going somewhere?” You ask him.

“Yes, downtown. There are a couple things I need to check.”

You respond with a single nod, poring over his perfect figure clad in black. Does he really have a mix of angelic and demonic blood in his veins? You don't see anything similar to a horn or sharp claws (unless they are hidden under those dirty latex gloves, but you hardly doubt it), nor a pair of white wings appearing from his back.

“To be honest, I was about to ask if you'd like to come with me.”

You break out from your thoughts with a mental slap. “Me...?”

“Do you see anybody else here?” He chuckles.

“But...what about Kat?”

Your friend is the only one who always drives his car or accompanies him around the city, how come Vergil is now asking _you_ to go with him?

“She's busy with another task I assigned to her.”

“...I see.”

“You're not forced to come, if you don't want to.”

_Oh, shit._

“Actually, there's something I'd like to show you, but we can do it another time, if you prefer.”

 _'Good job,'_ you say to yourself. _'You just made him believe that you don't want to spend some time with him, way to go!'_

“No! I...” You take a deep breath. “I'm sorry, forget what I said. I would gladly accompany you, Vergil.”

As if your head wasn't spinning enough for the unexpected invitation, your boss paralyzes you with one of the smiles you love most. “Good.”

You only leave the structure for very important errands, you always go out alone or with Kat by your side, but you've never been with Vergil outdoors in six months.

“Take all the needed time to finish your breakfast, there's no hurry. I'll wait for you outside.”

You don't move an inch as he walks away, the long part of his coat swinging back and forth at every step.

You are going out with Vergil for the first time, how should you consider this sudden change of plans? You can't help but think that your bond with him has become visibly stronger, to the point that he even revealed his most intimate secrets to you only a few hours ago.

This is only work, though, not a date. Vergil is acting like a good friend and treats you with respect and courtesy, you are not expecting anything that might compromise your professional relationship.

Then why the more you think about it, the more your legs tremble like leaves stirred from the wind?

Your cereals are now an indistinct puddle, dissolving into the milk under your lost gaze. And you don't even notice your colleagues getting to the dining room and taking place on the scattered chairs with their trays, cackling in the early morning and asking about the red tint on your cheeks without receiving any response.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vergil is waiting for you in his car, sitting behind the wheel with an unreadable expression. Your guts twist painfully when he sets his eyes on you as you approach, a soft scarf around your neck and a shoulder bag dangling at your left side. He smiles gently when you open the door and occupy the comfortable seat next to him, your excitment shines through your face for the very first ride on the striking vehicle.

“That was fast,” he remarks, curiously watching your sudden interest for the windows above your heads.

“I don't like making people wait,” you reply, amazed by the incredible view that this awesome car has to offer.

“It seems that you've never seen the clouds before,” he says, amusement resonating in his voice.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “This car is fucking cool!”

He turns the key into the dashboard and a mighty roar erupts in the alley. “It's just a car.”

You fasten your seat belt with a snort. “Just a car, he says!”

When said car leaves the driveway where The Order hides, the intense colors of dawn heat up the gloomy sky and reflect their warmth on your chilly body. The streets are silent and still empty due to the first light of day, a bundled up man walks with his dog on the sidewalk and a stray cat peeps from his hideout with a quick snap.

“I love this moment of the day, when the sun rises and the town is still asleep,” you comment. “It makes me feel... at peace.”

“I thought that girls preferred the sunset,” he says. “They define it... romantic, usually.”

You respond with a playful smile. “Yeah. But honestly, I find it more depressing.”

More heat spreads into your chest when Vergil sniggers, being genuine and cheerful because of your simple words and company. Even when driving his elegance is impeccable, with that stylish black fedora over his head and the straight posture.

You clear your throat. “So, where are we going, exactly?”

You still have more than two long hours before the shops open.

“I have not yet told you everything yesterday, there are still some things you need to know about the matter.”

_Uh oh._

“You're not going to tell me you also are a hybrid unicorn, aren't you?”*

He almost chokes. “What?! Of course not!”

“Phew!”

Vergil shakes his head, playfully.

“No offense, unicors are beautiful and majestic, but I can't really picture you with a silver horn on your forehead and a fluffy tail, Vergil.”

“You like to fantasize, don't you?”

“You should see my library at home.”

The library you loved to stare at from time to time, scanning the countless titles and breathing the wonderful smell of paper and bound leather.

The library you abandoned after that terrible accident, as well as your childhood dreams. Better not to think about it now.

“Well, I assure you I'm not a unicorn and never will be,” he says ironically.

“Not even a dinosaur?”*

“Not even a dinosaur.”

The car stops at the red traffic light, the gigantic blue “V” brightens on the small LCD screen next to the wheel.

“Pity.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking side by side with Vergil down the streets, you have to step over a couple of drunks asleep (or dead, you're not sure) and to kick some Virility crumpled cans on the befouled ground.

“So, what exactly did you want to show me?” You ask curiously.

Vergil opens his arm and points to the landscape around, Yamato always clutched into his hand. “This.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “I beg your pardon...?”

“What do you see?”

You stare at the shop shutters, painted with elaborated texts and designs made by some random street artists known as vandals. The now blue sky is coloring the urbanistic atmosphere and the weak rays of the sun create a variety of shades on walls and on the pebble floor.

“I only see an empty and silent town,” you answer.

“Yes, that is what everyone sees. But do you know what's on the other side?”

You blink. “The other side...?”

“Our world is not the only one existing, it is simply the only one visible,” he explains.

If his intention was to give you a terrible headache early in the morning, he should have said that. “Vergil... I don't get it.”

“Have you ever heard of a place called _Limbo_?”

You reflect for a moment, the words you once read over an old book at school are still alive in your head. “In the theology of the Catholic Church, Limbo is a speculative idea about the afterlife condition of those who die in Original Sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned. In western Europe, people described the underworld as something divided into four distinct parts: Hell of the Damned, Purtagory, Limbo of the Fathers or Patriarchs and Limbo of the Infants.”*

Vergil looks at you with a visible astonishment. “I'm impressed!”

A tint of pink appears again on your soft cheeks. “Well, I was a geek. But why do you ask?”

“The human world is hiding a sort of overlapping dimension that collides with it, but appears invisible to the naked eye,” he says, you both walking without a clear destination. “The demons have their own dark world, where you can find yourself trapped unless you kill the ones who dragged you in. In other words, Limbo is where they come from, it's their home.”

You frown, subconsciously taking a quick look around. “You mean that demons are surrounding us, but we can't see them?”

Vergil nods. “Precisely.”

“But the one I met was real... and Kyle Ryd- I mean, Mundus, is corporeal too.”

“True. Mundus is controlling the demons through the Hell Gate, a portal directly connected to their dimension. Plus, many of them are mingled among us, in disguise.”

You bite your lower lip when a thrill of fear shakes your body. You will never forget the elegant figure that approached you, bringing a little pained and helpless girl into the wolf's den.

“Vergil, you said that we can be dragged in their dimension... did that happen to you?”

You turn a corner and find yourself in a dark tunnel.

“Yes, it happened many times,” he confirms, voice echoing in the closed space.

“How does it look like?”

“Limbo is like a messed up world. Everything looks upside down, there's no logic, nor spacetime. Whatever happens in there, might affect the real world too, though.”

When you come out from the tunnel, a strong beam of sunlight hits you in the eyes, already accustomed to the darkness.

“What do you mean?”

“Our two worlds are connected. Destroy something in there, you could harm the human world as well. Do you know about all the accidents and disasters my brother is accused of?”

“He was dragged in Limbo?”

“All the time.”

You wonder how you would react if that happened to you, being trapped into a hellish dimension without weapons and without escape.

“Come,” he pats you on the shoulder, distraction leading you in the wrong direction. “There's still something I want to show you.”

You follow him through a silent road, some cars are now whizzing back and forth next to the sidewalk. “Vergil...?” You call him shyly.

Keeping a slow pace he looks down at you.“Yes?”

You're always locked up between four walls in your office, almost forgetting how nice the morning air actually feels against your skin. “Thank you for bringing me here. I think I needed it.”

With the corner of your eye you behold a gorgeous grin taking form on his lips. “No. Thank _you_ for coming... and trusting me so blindly.”

Being with him like this, alone in a half empty city with a smiling sun above your silhouettes, you would gladly dare to step forward and show him your true feelings with a burst of confidence. His right hand, free and so close to yours, is making your brain scream as it fights against your heart. Your fingers brush his gloved ones with an imperceptible touch, but you keep your hand paralyzed along your side and continue to walk looking straight in front of you with a timid smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **That dialogue about unicorn and dinosaur is there for a reason. Haters sent a message to Tameem (the creative director) on Twitter, asking if Vergil was about to become a dinosaur, before Ninja Theory released the game. Tameem ironically answered with: "Of course not! He will become a unicorn, obviously!" and I found it absolutely hilarious!
> 
> *Limbo's detailed description comes from Wikipedia ^_^


	6. So close

“Oh my God...”

You don't blink even once staring at the painted walls around you. All those images telling a story, _his_ story, with a bunch of bright colors and spectacular details.

Vergil steps at your side, placing his blue eyes over your lean form. “This was our playground, mine and Dante's.”

You can perceive a bit of sadness in his sentence, probably feeling nostalgic remembering the old times.

You sit on the rusty swing behind you, the other seat missing, that creaks in your ears when you slightly move back and forth on it. “It's a nice place, so full of memories. I can almost hear the cheerful voices in the air.”

“I hope my brother will feel the same, when I'll show him this place.”

You surely had a terrible childhood, with yelling parents and a demonic thing that marked your body with sharp talons trying to keep you trapped in its lair. Neverthless, you somehow managed to get back on your feet and move on with your life, finishing your studies with honors and occasionally doing several part-time jobs with those painful images buried inside of you (aside from your nightmares).

But Vergil, notwithstanding the wealth and luxury of which he was surrounded, had to live with his amnesia for years, without recalling who he truly was and where he actually belonged to. When he finally recovered his lost memories it was too late, he couldn't prevent his father's imprisonment and he grew up away from his twin brother after Mundus teared their family apart, a brother who still doesn't have a clue about his past nor identity.

“Are you afraid that he won't remember you?” You ask, a soft breeze blowing through your hair.

“He will,” he denies. “I have no doubts about it.”

“But...?”

“But,” he positions himself in front of you, his right hand closes around one of the two supportive chains, delicatly stopping your swaying and looking straight into your eyes. “Convincing him to help us is definitely another story.”

You silently gulp for his sudden proximity. “W-why shouldn't he accept? It concerns him as well, after all... it's about his own family. Besides, from what I understand, Mundus is persecuting him since the day you parted.”

Vergil nods his head. “Yes, but my brother is anything like me. He's impulsive, a free spirit let's say.”

You show him an encouraging smile. “If Dante is even half of what you are, Vergil, I'm sure he won't turn his back to you.”

Vergil considers your words for a short moment, his grip around the chain tightens subconsciously. Your gaze is firm, attracted by his magnetic eyes.

“You are incredible,” he then says, gloved fingers leaving the chain and catching one of the soft locks falling on your face due to the wind. “Always so optimistic and understanding, I could not be more proud of the way you're facing all of this.”

The excitement that overwhelms you after his words is indescribable, heart pounding painfully against your chest because of his simple, but awfully sweet touch. “And I couldn't be more honored to work with someone like you.”

His lips twich as his fingers place the strand of hair behind your ear. A simple gesture that encloses intimacy, his seductive look seems to demand for something that goes beyond your comprehension.  
He lowers a bit, hand back around the chain as yours squeezes the other one - cold metal against your palm - and your ability to breathe now forgotten as you stay very still on the seat.

Then, with an unprecedented simplicity, he straightens his back and steps to the side. “Come on, let's go.”

Whilst Vergil walks away from the little playground, you are like frozen on the old squeaky swing, inhaling and exhaling as if you've been immersed in deep waters until now. You are quite disappointed, and at the same time relieved, that what you thought was an attempted kiss never really came. Because, even though a part of you has secretly waited for it to happen, you probably wouldn't know how to properly react.

Your boss stands to the entrance, calling your name when he sees you stuck on the swing. Jerking, you stand up from the seat and run to him, followed by a pair of heated cheekbones and quivering legs. “I'm coming!”


	7. Alchemy

“Are you okay?”

Vergil's voice brings you out of your thoughts as you stare at the passers-by with a lost expression, mouth full of the hot dog you're eating and he paid for during your lunch break.

“You seem a little... distracted.”

Swallowing you show him a reassuring smile. “I'm sorry Vergil, I'm fine. I was just thoughtful.”

“What were you thinking about?” He inquires, the envelope of his own hot dog now empty on his lap (you didn't think he could be so voracious! And sure you were that he was more a Restaurant type!).

With a deep sigh you place your gaze back on the countless people that walk in different and unknown directions in front of you. “Look at them, so wrapped up in their habits and totally unaware of what is actually happening behind their backs.”

Vergil nods his head. “Humans are weak. Their mind is way too easy to manipulate and shape as you please.”

“Uhm.”

“No offense, of course,” he adds.

“It's fine. What you say is indeed true, Vergil.”

You hate how convinving a certain crap could sound, even though its trap is clearly visible at first sight.

“Yet, you still have your own way of thinking and those fake ads and TV reports are ineffective on you.”

His respect and positive opinion about you is flattering, but unfounded for a good reason. “Only because I had the misfortune of meeting a demon when I was a child and I learned to keep my eyes wide open everyday, everywhere.” You specify. “Otherwise, I would probably be one of these people, thinking about which skirt or pair of pants goes with what and how to impress a guy.”

Vergil seems to inexplicably stiffen as soon as you finish your sentence, but you have probably just imagined it.

“Maybe. Or maybe not.” He claims.

Standing up from the bench you two have occupied, he throws the empty wrapper into the nearest trashcan with a perfect aim, whilst you finally finish your lunch with a final bite.

“Let's go back,” he says, adjusting his elegant fedora with an oddly dark look in the shade.

“...Okay.”  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------

You spot a rather interesting magazine in the newsstand on the corner, proceeding in the purchase under Vergil's curious eyes right after. He emits a sigh of disappointment when you sadly raise it in your hands, reading its title in black uppercase letters:

**“TERRORIST WANTED! SPOTTED IN A NIGHTCLUB BY SEVERAL WITNESSES!”**

You frown. “It's happening again, right?”

“Yes,” he answers. “As long as Mundus is in charge of all, that will never find an end.”

Vergil's composure and peace of mind are quite disarming.   
“Poor Dante.”

“We're going to help him soon,” he assures you. “I already have a plan.”

Of course he does. Your boss seems to have everything scheduled every single day, but considering he's not even human, it's not so surprising anymore.

“And I guess these witnesses described here were... how did you call them?”

“ _Spotters_.”

“So he went to that nightclub to hunt some demons down, right?”

After a moment of slight hesitation Vergil contradicts your words. “Not really, no.”

“But...?”

“That is what I meant when I said Dante is... a free spirit.”

And you suddenly feel terribly stupid for your naive assumption. “Oh. I see.”

Two identical brothers, two different minds. Having Dante around at The Order will certainly be interesting and fun... or incredibly embarrassing, you can't tell.  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can't find a fucking article with an ounce of sense.”

Vergil chuckles as you flip the pages of your magazine. “Are you surprised?”

You groan in frustration. “I'm not. Still, I feel disappointed.”

“Don't be. Things are going to change, trust me.”

Keeping his hands on the wheel, Vergil stares at the busy street in front of him occasionally glancing at you when you speak, or when you're simply too inattentive to notice it.

“You still have to tell me about your super secret plan,” you state, lips curved in a playful smile.

“I will, at the right time.”

“Enigmatic, aren't we?”

“Always.”

An intense heat fills your cheeks when the air which penetrates through the lowered window brings Vergil's scent into your nostrils. His cologne is intoxicating, to the point that you have to thank the car's seat for its comfortable support.

Despite the truth he confessed about his origins and hybrid nature, you still know too little about him. Your admiration for the guy soon transformed into something more, making you feel lost and safe at the same time.

“Vergil, may I ask you something?”

Your boss looks at your form for a short moment, before locking his eyes on the street again. “Of course.”

“What happened to your foster parents?” You then ask.

“Thirsty for informations, I see.”

You laugh nervously. “Yeah, well... I know you were adopted by a rich family, but you never really mentioned anything about them.”

Vergil nods silently. “My foster mother died of cancer when I was sixteen, as for my father we lost contacts a long time ago.”*

You try to bite your tongue, but your words flow from your lips anyway. “How come?”

“I am grateful for the life they gave me, but even when I couldn't remember who I was I felt as if that wasn't really my place.”

You know that feeling all too well, with the mere difference that you've never been adopted.

He continues. “The relationship between me and my foster father started to change after my mother's death. I never asked him why and to be honest, I didn't really care. It just happened and that's it.”

You wonder if he ever loved his foster parents when he was with them. Even if they will never replace his real family, they still raised him and took care of his needs every day. Neverthless, a part of you can understand his indifference toward them... because finding yourself in a big house and surrounded by wealth doesn't necessarily make you feel as loved as you should. Besides, if Vergil's foster father stopped caring after his wife's loss, that probably means that his own pain and way too comfortable life counted more than a sixteen years old boy to instruct, love and lead to the future.

"At some point, I wrote a security encryption program and went on to become an independent wealthy multi-millionaire, before leaving school and following my own path."

_Holy crap._

Well, not that his economic status was a secret, but _multi-millionaire_ , really? Vergil never boasted of what he has, rather offering his riches and providing his collaborators with advanced technologies and a soft bed to sleep in at night.

How many things you still ignore about your boss? Probably you are not even allowed to know.

You sigh. “Sorry if I was intrusive.”

Vergil shakes his head. “Actually, I'm glad you asked me that. It just shows how much you care about me and I like it.”

Your entire body freezes, together with your breath now cut off. Your fingers unconsciously grab the magazine on your knees, tightening the two extremities so much that you will probably tear it in half.

Is he doing that on purpose? Is he trying to tease you or what?

 _Shit_.

“I made you uncomfortable now, didn't I?”

You mentally curse. “No! I just... your words... they surprised me. A lot.”

He looks down at you and smiles like he never smiled before. No other words escape his mouth, because nothing else is there to be said. Your momentary silence and the reaction you just had proved him that he spoke the truth and that he, now not so secretly anymore, represents a mainstay in your life. Maybe even more than you ever thought possible.

Shifting your attention back to the magazine you bite your lower lip, resigned and mentally distracted by the man next to your figure who continues to carefully drive as if nothing happened.

And you have no idea of what is about to come.

You flip another page when the car stops at the red traffic light, your eyes still glued on the texts and random pictures printed on the paper.  
But, when you feel a gloved hand brushing on the back of your neck, you instantly raise up your head to find Vergil's incredibly close to yours. Once again, you find yourself trapped into his majestic eyes, feeling his hot breath against your face as his lips part and move inches away from your mouth. Your body is paralyzed as if an electric shock invaded it and the magazine falls on the car's floor when your shaking hands are not capable of keeping it anymore.

Then, right before his lips could find their place on yours, a powerful klaxon from behind resounds in the whole vehicle. Vergil lifts his gaze to the now green traffic light and he reluctantly detaches from you with an irritated sigh.

You don't think you will reach the hideout alive, not with the air stuck in your lungs. It's the second attempted kiss you avert today, sure now that Vergil wanted to do so this morning as well, when the two of you were in his old playground.

And yet you don't really know how to feel about it, wanting to kiss him back, but scared of what might happen to your relationship with him from now on.  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Right when the car stops in front of the rolling shutter, you throw the door open whilst the keys are still inserted into the dashboard. Vergil calls your name with a very calm tone when your feet meet the brick floor and you abruptly close the door behind you.

“Wait, please. We need to talk.”

Talk, yes. About what? About the kiss you almost shared? What this will result it?

You're not sure you really want to hear it.

“Why are you running away?”

His question leaves you stunned. “I'm not running.”

“Are you sure?”

Okay, you definitely are.

“Listen, I apologize if my sudden actions have upset you.”

Squeezing the strap of your bag, you shake your head. “It's not that.”

“Then what is it? I can see the way you look at me, how you almost shudder when I am near you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did he already know, for all this time? And most importantly, how many people have noticed that, apart from him?

“There is a certain alchemy between us, you can't deny that.”

You inhale and exhale to calm your nerves. “It's true, I can't. But Vergil, this is... so wrong!”

He steps forward, making you swallow. “What is wrong with this?”

You look straight in his blue, fantastic eyes. “You are my boss.”

After a short moment of consideration, he replicates. “So what?”

You can't believe how superficial the reflexive Vergil is acting now.

“I... I don't know. I don't want to compromise our working relationship.”

His hands take a gentle hold of your shoulders. “We are a nice team when we work together, I honestly don't see the problem you describe.”

Right, you can't see it either... but there's this annoying voice in your head that is screaming at you, warning you, saying you would make a wrong move and nothing will be the same anymore.

“I am not going to force you, take your time to think about it and figure out what you really want.”

What is it that you want, in truth?

You've been interested in Vergil since you started to work for him, considering yourself simply not enough for a man like him. You thought he was a distant person, someone that probably only Kat could reach at times... yet here he is, trying to kiss _you_ , wanting to be with _you_.

 ** _You_**.

You are dying to know why, among all the girls he could have, he chose the young woman who's standing in front of him, but your heart is beating so painfully that you find your voice lost, together with the faculty of properly reason.

“Consider this conversation postponed, not over,” he concludes, the warmth of his hands on your shoulders fading while he walks away.

And you follow him silently, walking like a badly programmed robot, your legs suddenly heavy and feet incredibly weak. Your brain, currently processing what happened today from when he found you in the silent dining room to this precise moment, is hammering in your head and fighting to death with your pounding heart.

Yeah, you definitely won't come out of this alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *There is indeed anything about Vergil's foster parents, Wiki only talks about an adoptive rich family and the path he followed after his success in programming.


	8. Terror

_It's cold._

_Very cold._

_Embracing yourself in an attempt to warm your gelid body, you walk along the dark and endless corridor, silence interrupted by the sound of your heels as you step forward without an aim._

_Your legs are moving on their own accord, the place looking like an abandoned prison, nobody's there to be seen nor heard and every piece of furniture gone. You are left alone in the headquarters, wandering around like a ghost without purpose._

_You didn't know the Order had such a long corridor, leading to who knows where._

_“Oh, poor little thing. Are you lost?”_

_Your legs stop all of a sudden, a familiar, yet alarming voice spoke from behind of you._

_Slowly turning around, your eyes behold a distint, feminine figure with a pair of beautiful emerald eyes and long black hair. She stares at you, smiling, the intoxicating and disarming rose scent expands from her pores to the whole environment._

_A part of you relaxes in front of such a calm, reassuring figure, but rationality makes your brain bell ring in alarm._

_“No...” you answer, voice shaking in fear. “No, I... I'm okay.”_

_The woman's curved lips widen even more. “No need to lie, dearie. I mean no harm, I can help you.”_

_You somehow feel attracted by her raised hand, as if it was some kind of escape, freedom, the right path for your forgotten happiness._

_However, you can't stop thinking that something in her is terribly wrong, like a negative aura radiated by the woman's soul._

_You retreat immediatly. “No, I'm fine. Really, I... I should go home now.”_

_She tilts her head on the right, that disturbing smile still present on her perfect face. “Home?”_

_“Yes...”_

_“But you have no home, sweetheart.”_

_Shaking your head, “I do have one. The Order is my home.”_

_A soft chuckle. “So naive, poor girl. Where do you think you are now?”_

_You take a quick look around. “I don't know.”_

_“Everyone left you, sweetheart. Can't you see that? Nothing is left for you here.”_

_You swallow, heart galoping like a crazy horse. “No... no, you're lying!”_

_“Nothing is left for you here,” she says again, taking a step forward with her red, glossy shoes._

_You step back. “Stay away from me!”_

_“Stop running.”_

_Your whole body freezes, feet stuck on the floor like a pair of tree roots. Her voice just sounded so different from before, so... inhuman._

_“It's useless and you just fell right in my hands, precious.”_

_The stunning woman you are facing is nothing but a facade well constructed to entrap poor and naive victims like yourself, a disgusting demonic form comes out from its shell, intense green eyes soon become piercing red pools, the soft lips transform into a slobbery mouth full of sharp fangs, the silky raven curls are replaced by a shiled of plugs and sharp claws appear in place of the perfect manicure she was exhibiting._

_Her smooth, rosy skin melts down like a heated ice cream, revealing a grayish scaly material._

_You are paralyzed, incapable of moving from your spot. You struggle, cry out, heavily breath in fear, but this bloodthirsty monster is do damn right; nobody is there to help you. Nobody is there to save you._

_A dangerous hand is raised in the air ready to strike, claws twinkling in the darkness like a set of long knives._

_And then, those sharp blades come down to you and right on your face, strips of blood flow from the open cuts staining your white nightgown and forming a large puddle around your stuck feet._

_______________________________________________________

You inhale deeply as your chest burns and raises violently from the mattress, your eyes meeting the obscurity of your room, a small, single light coming from your alarm clock.  
You woke up in the middle of the night once again, after another terrible, dreadfull nightmare.

Moving the sweaty blankets away from your shaking legs, you abandon the not so comforting bed to rapidly turn the lights on, touching your aching face to find any sigh of scar or fresh wound.

Nothing.

You press a palm against your chest, air somehow missing and absolutely needed to sweep the sting away. Without worrying about changing your attire, you absently wear the heels at the bedside and run out, door almost shutting behind you and resounding in the silent corridor.

Everything is just like it is supposed to be; furnitures are still were they were before you went to sleep, the soft sound of working servers in the background.

You walk in haste along the hallway, until you reach the common bathroom and stop right in front of the large mirror over the set of sinks.

Your face looks perfectly clean, no sign of blood is there to be seen. Panting, you turn the cold knob and let the fresh water run into the washbasin, before cupping your hands under the jet and splashing the liquid on your facial skin to cool it down.

Now refreshed and finally able to properly breathe again, you close the water turning the knob in the opposite direction. A few drops fall from your face into the sink - whilst you use said object to support your weak body - and you watch them forming a short path up to the drail hole.

When a hand suddenly grabs your shoulder from behind, you jerk it away with a quick snap and turn around, painfully pressing your back against the hard marble of the sink.

Startled, you get lost into that pair of wonderful, well known blue eyes, which are now wide open staring at you with a palpable confusion.

Your tense shoulders drop down and relax. “Vergil.”

Still awake he is, does he ever sleep at night? Or are Nephilim just like vampires and don't really need to rest as humans do?

The man frowns carefully grazing your exposed arm. His fingers end up following the edges of your old scars, always kept hidden under your long-sleeved shirts. They are slightly visible silver scratches, but tend to recall painful memories in every sense.

Vergil was not aware of what you were trying to hide, the concern for the way your body is marked is now painted all over his features.

You were careless, running outside in your nightgown (with that generous portion of unclad chest) without wearing anything to at least cover yourself.

Vergil's eyes are now back on your face, his fingers circling your arm in a reassuring way. “I saw you through the cameras. Are you okay?” He finally speaks.

You bite your lower lip. Lying and pretending everything is perfectly fine would be definitely useless, considering the way you're still shaking and the open book printed on your face saying it all. Vergil is staring at all your weaknesses; uncovered scars, sleeveles and quite short nightgown, any trace of make-up around your puffy eyes. Sure you are to look like a total mess, yet your boss doesn't seem to care at all, stepping even closer to grab both of your arms with his large gloved hands.

However, you're not the only one half exposed here, you soon notice. His expensive black coat seems to be gone, showing the tight brown shirt with long sleeves and an exquisite v-neck line usually impossible to be seen. The muscles that outline his body are now fully visible under the soft fabric, perfectly clinging to him like another glove.

If you were in a different state of mind you would certainly appreciate that glorious view in a different way.

Shaking your head you eventually give in. “No.”

He is so close that you can even feel his breath on the tip of your nose. “Nightmares?”

You answer with a simple nod. “What can I do, Vergil? It'll never end.”

You spontaneously place your forhead against his shoulder, abandoning yourself in his protective embrace. If you have intentionally avoided him for the rest of the day after the attempted kiss in his car, you wouldn't want to be with anybody else at the moment. No sign of embarrassment, nor discomfort can be found in you at this point, as he shyly but gently strokes your hair with his gloved fingers.

“Come with me,” he says then, voice vibrating into his sculpted chest. “It's cold in here.”

You then follow him without saying a word. He wraps an arm around your waist and you stare at the ground letting him guide you along the various corridors and flights of stairs.

He sets you free once the two of you stop in front of the segregated office, so that he can run the standard retinal scan to unlock the main doors. With a bip sound the metal barriers start to slide on the sides, Vergil enters the big room as you silently follow, the place is warmer than the rest of the structure and feels kinda nice now that you've calmed down and don't feel like a burning fire anymore.

“I am such a burden for you, am I not?”

He stops right in his track and turns to you with a scowled expression. “What?”

“Aw, come on boss, I am all grown up!” You smile. “I think I can take some reproaches, when they're needed.”

For a brief moment you're sure he's about to give up the attempts to hide his disappointment, since he just stays there, motionless, lips pursed in a thin pale line. But then he chuckles to himself and slightly shake his head, before reaching out to you, eyes soften, and outstretched fingers waiting for you to wrap them in your own hand.

You gulp, studying his blue latex glove as if it was concealing some kind of trap, the dream you had earlier still influencing your vulnerable mind.

Everything seems incredibly real, though... the atmosphere, the smell of overheated plastic and men's cologne, the warmth irradiated by the computers and turned on screens on the walls.

Lingering, you slowly raise your hand from your left side, take a step forward and finally touch the tip of his fingers. Vergil immediatly grabs yours with a firm hold and delicately pulls you towards him as the sound of closing automatic doors echoes in the room.

You find yourself pressed against his chest, lips grazing your forehead laying a soft, breathtaking kiss over your skin.

“How come you can't see the effect you have on me...” He whispers in your ear. “After this morning, I thought you knew the way I feel about you by now.”

Your heart explodes with joy and your legs ridiculously turn into jellies whilst you stay clung to his warm shirt. You've spent the whole afternoon locked into your office because you were too afraid of meeting him again... and all 'cause there was this inexplicable voice in your brain which tried to warn you about a possible failure, something that could psychologically destroy you when you still have not finished putting all the pieces back together. But now, hearing those words and staying safely between his arms, you realize that what you were experiencing was just an incredible dread, terrified you were – and still are - of getting hurt again.

Softly, you subconsciously trace his jawline with your other hand. “Why me...?”

“...I beg your pardon...?”

“I am not the only woman here. There are so many girls that would die to be in my shoes, so many that you could have. So, why me? What about Kat?”

“Kat?”

“Come on, Vergil...”

He takes a deep sigh, without releasing you. “She and I had... something once, it's true.”*

Okay, what the flying fuck? You always considered Kat was above you in every aspect, but certainly you were not expecting they actually had a flirt (if not more).

“But it was already gone the moment it came. Kat is very useful for this cause... and a good friend, but that's exactly what she is: a friend.”

You often wondered if Kat and Vergil might've become a pair at some point... but the psychic woman never seemed particularly into him indeed. She cared a lot about Vergil, that is clear, but if she never confessed this little detail of her life to you, maybe she herself doesn't consider it relevant for her, nor his future.

The mere thought manages to reassure you a little bit. You wouldn't want to step on a friend's toes, even if you'd break your heart in the process.

“But you still haven't answered my question.”

“Why you?”

“Yes.”

Only a few days ago, you were all alone into your office thinking about a man you thought was unreachable, when you had the truth served on a silver plate without knowing it.

“I need to know, Vergil... because really, it goes beyond my comprehension. I'm nothing special.”

He backs off a few inches to look into your eyes. “Nothing special?!”

You nod.

“You really don't have the slightest idea? Don't you realize how incredible, intelligent and beautiful you are?”

_Wait, beautiful...?_

“Your technical skills, the knowledge you have... why can't you see all those things and underestimate yourself this much instead?”

Taking a step back and crossing your arms, you pond over his words from a different point of view. Vergil is so far the only person who ever appreciated you for something, encouraged you even! Taking you into his forming team without batting an eye. The reason why you became so insecure over the years, is because of the countless times you've been considered just too stressed or simply too, how your doctors used to tell your family, mentally unstable. But what they all thought was an illusion projected by your sick brain, was actually more real than all of them put together.

Nothing is wrong in your head. The only thing you have to deal with is your past, a past that most likely encloses all your pains and they manifest themselves in the form of nightmares, using the worst shape you've ever known.

“You still are not convinced, aren't you?” He inquires.

“Vergil, did you really say what I think you said? Beautiful...?”

Chuckling a second time, “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“I just wanted to be sure I heard you well. This is not a dream, right?”

Because you would be terribly disappointed if you found yourself into your lonely bed.

“Do I look like a dream to you?”

You shake your head. “Nope. But you know... this could easily be a dream inside a dream... how was that movie called? _Inception_ , I think that is.”

Gloved hands are on your shoulder once again. “Relax, this is not a dream. I am real, _we_ are real.”

“...Good.”

Oh God, you're not sure you will be able to bear his proximity for much longer. Not without having a heart attack, or passing out, or laughing hysterically. Or all those things at the same time.

“Listen,” he continues, blue eyes still (painfully) soft. “I want you to trust me.”

“But I do trust you, Vergil...”

_I trust you with all of me._

Hesitantly, “Open up to me, then.”

And placing a strand of hair behind your ear, “Tell me about your nightmares, about your past. Tell me what happened to you thirteen years ago.”

_“He could help. Vergil knows how to deal with demons, that's why I talked to him.”_

Kat was right. Vergil apparently is the only one capable enough to help you. To save you.

And maybe, just maybe, even to love you.

Besides, now that he shared his own secrets with you - his past and his nature - denying such a thing to him would not be fair.

It is now or never.

Placing your hands against his strong and broad shoulders, you take a deep breath to gain all the needed courage and face your past all over again. “Okay Vergil,” you say with a drizzle of voice. “I'll tell you everything.”


	9. Memories

Staring at the warm, steaming mug set on the glass surface in front of you, your hands wrap around the ceramic material as they welcome its relaxing heat, back pressed against the comfortable chair, which feels like a massive throne with the two angel statues on each side that seem to watch over your shaking form.

Your boss is laying against the desk a few inches away from your body, arms crossed beneath his chest and looking down at your visage with a disarming calm.

Your heart is beating so fast that it will surely cause you a slight hyperventilation, at some point.

“I-I don't even know where to start,” you begin, being sure to keep your eyes well far from Vergil's face. You don't think you could handle his look at the moment.

“Take your time,” he says. “Don't push yourself. There's no hurry.”

“...Right.”

“Relax,” he continues, gloved hand grazing your bare shoulder with a light touch. “Nothing is about to hurt you, not in this place. And certainly not until I'm here by your side.”

It is reassuring, really. The soothing power his voice has whenever you need to be comforted.

A soft smile takes form over your lips, tension dissipating from your limbs. “Okay.”

Blowing into the mug to cool down the incandescent tisane, your mind travels back in time to the day when everything started. The day you have tried to forget, failing, for the following thirteen years.

You clear your throat after a long sip to calm your nerves. “I was seven years old. My father had been fired all of a sudden by the company he was working for, after a very long time of dedication and innovative ideas.”

Nobody ever listened to you the way Vergil is doing now. He watches your every gesture, every unwitting movement you do on his chair as you talk.

“That job was everything to him. To us. His salary was good, alright, but a large part of the money served to cover my studies and the costs of our daily life.”

Vergil nods his head, pensive.

“He fell into depression, relying solely on alcohol to deal with his misfortune. My mother was against that, obviously... each day began and ended with a violent quarrel between the two. Now think about the atmosphere a little girl of seven had to endure.”

Vergil shifts his weight on the other leg, hands now placed against the table's surface.

“Nevertheless, I tried to do my best, staying strong while having a great suffering inside of me. I thought that maybe, if I could show them how responsible and efficient I still was, my father would stop drinking and start over, if not for himself, for his daughter. I was terribly wrong.”

Another sip, hands trembling whilst the main part of your story approaches. “They didn't even look at me, too busy to worry about the sudden lack of economic income and spit venom to each other. My father had his part of guilt, but my mother never really tried to look for a job herself. I could only watch, listen, stay locked in my room to avoid their fights.”

You pause.

“One night- _that_ night, I was so tired of their arguments that I slunk away and escaped. They found out about my disappearance only later, but that amount of time, Vergil, that simple distraction on their part could've been fatal for my life. If only I knew. If only I had stayed. If only... they cared.”

All the terror you felt, the risk you took... the event that ruined your childhood was caused by your father's dismissal and his depression afterwards. Perhaps, deep in your heart, you always blamed your parents for the nightmares you've been forced to deal with until now.

“Are you okay?”

Vergil's hand sets on the small of your back with an electric graze, the man bending slightly over your sitting figure as you place the mug back on the table and push it back.

“You're not obliged to continue. I would understand.”

You vigorously shake your head. “The only ones aware of what happened to me either consider me insane or a complexed woman still looking for attention. Just now, just for once, I think I need to share my story with someone who would never look at me as if I were a freak.”

In responce, Vergil smiles comfortably to prove his trust and respect towards you.

If not him, who else? There's nobody better than him for this, nor for you.

You take up the subject. “It was raining. Just two steps away from home and I was already soaking wet. I was cold, and lonely, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from my yelling parents for a while and stay on my own.”

You can almost hear the sound of droplets falling on the asphalt with an unstoppable force, every detail still vivid in your mind as if it happened a day ago or so. The smell of rain, the cars and motorcycles whizzing in the street, your teeth chattering from the cold.

“I only stopped when my legs couldn't take it anymore. The sky was dark, dinner time came, and I started to regret my choice. I cursed my impulsive behavior, thinking I probably had to stand and go straight home. But, if my brain was telling me to do the most rational thing, my body didn't move an inch from that sidewalk.”

Your hands are sweating, fingernails sinking into the fabric of the nightgown covering your thights.

“No, they had to find me. They had to look for me, getting worried. That was what I really wanted, what I above all needed.”

And they found you indeed, right when it could have been too late.

“But then... someone came. Someone I knew so well.” Your voice breaks. “The bookseller.”

A lump in your throat. “Seeing how often I glanced at the shelves without never buying anything, the woman allowed me to read any kind of book whenever I wanted, as long as I stayed in her shop doing so and without trying to steal her goods.” You smile unconsciously. “That old shop looked like a fairytale to me, a mysterious door to a new world.”

Exactly what it was, just not in a good way.

“The woman became fond of me for some reason, but to be honest I couldn't be happier than that. She was my only friend, in her company I felt secure, safe even.”

Vergil tilts his head on one side and then the other, some kind of habit he has to release the tension in his neck.

“She had just closed the store, which was a few feet from my position. Funny, isn't it? How, with all the possible places, I ended up right there.”

Coincidence? You hardly doubt it.

_“Oh my. What are you doing here, dearie?”_

“She found me crouched against a wall like a frightened cat, holding an umbrella over my soggy figure.”

You can feel it, the apprehension in Vergil's breathing while you speak.

_“Poor kitten, are you crying? Come with me, you'll catch a pneumonia.”_

“The moment I saw her in front of me I burst into tears. My only caring friend and two yelling parents at home, who do you think I chose? She took me away from that street and I didn't question her intensions not even once. How could I?”

“And you fell directly into the demon's trap,” he declares, knitted brows and a visible concern spread along his features.

You swallow. “I did.”

“How did you escape?” Gloved hand grasping your wrist gently, fingers reaching your old scars and outlining their contour. “These marks you have on your skin are a clear proof of your opposition. You fought back.”

You are puzzled, confused, surprised. He literally skipped all the intermediate part, wanting to know how it ended and what you did to escape the demon's lair. A part of you is flattered, glad to see how the man you love is trying to keep you from suffering again.

“You don't want to hear the rest?”

“You're not telling me anything new. Demons disguised as humans looking for slaves, _Spotters_ in their hands. Someone weak to manipulate, mold to their liking and kill when they're not useful anymore.”

His hand suddenly closes around yours in a firm grip, an unpredictable rage burning in his eyes.

“Isn't it what that _thing_ tried to do with you?”

Your self control is officially broken, shattered into pieces.

“Yes,” your voice is barely audible. “She brought me to her place, helping me dry and offering a healthy dinner, so as she called it. The fact is that I immediatly noticed something was terribly wrong the moment I set foot into the bulding. The people in there, walking along the corridors without an apparent destination, they were-”

“-inhuman.”

_Pale faces, empty eyes and an alarming silence surrounding you._

“Yeah. I don't know, Vergil... I told myself it was only my own imagination. She acted as if everything was normal, taking care of me like a mother would. But, something changed the moment I entered her apartment, although I'm not completely sure about what followed afterwards. Everything went black at some point and my memories are like an old, confusing film. I only remember waking up on a bed with a dreadful nausea and a piercing headache.”

_“What? It didn't work? How come it didn't work on you?!”_

The smug face she had when you went back into the living room feeling strangely dizzy... arms crossed, strange wrinkles - that were not there before - pulling the skin of her forehead.

“I think the food was contaminated. She was angry, alarmed and disgruntled to see me in control of myself. I got scared, I wanted to go home more than I could ever imagine. The more I tried to get away, the more her appearence changed, freezing me there.”

The dream you had a few moments ago, fragments of memories and fears preserved over time.

“I... I tried to run away the moment she- _it_ got closer with a lope. I only managed to unlock the front door, but a stinging pain in my shoulder forced me on the floor.”

You unconsciously draw your hand away from Vergil's grasp, only to climb over your left arm and stop on the back of your shoulder. A few silent seconds pass before his fingers follow your action, caressing the sensitive skin and touching your hand before removing it gently from your scapula and replacing it with his gentle touch. A set of smaller scars, similar to claw marks, can be felt even through the thick material of his glove.

“I cried for help, but nobody came for me. I fought back indeed, kicking the thing with al my remaining strength, punching that horrible face and pushing it away. Everything was useless, obviously. Can you think about it? A little girl, thin as a breadstick, against a huge monster with claws, muscles and fangs?”

A shadow of a smile pulls the corners of his mouth upward, but it stays there only for a brief second.

_“No way I'm gonna let you go, little brat! You are in my hands, whether you like it or not!”_

“I was doomed. My only escape was downstairs, so close and yet so far. 'Please, let it be just a dream' I said to myself, but the pain in my limbs was too real, as well as the blood flowing from my wound.”

He sighs again.

“How did I escape, you ask? I don't know, really, by a stroke of luck I suppose. I accidentally bumped a wooden stand and the vase on it crashed violently on the both of us. A short moment of distraction and that was definitely an opportunity to act. I grabbed a fragment of pottery and-”

_The heat of the blood spurting on your face..._

“-I wasn't even thinking. I just smashed it against her face, again and again... I slipped away from her grasp whilst her piercing screams echoed in my ears. I ran as fast as I could once more, ignoring the pain in my arms and the hands that tried to stop me. The residents were... they surrounded me.”

“It's okay-”

“Luckily, they were not so strong. They were slow, stepping forward like controlled robots.”

“There's no need to-”

“I ran down the stairs and... a moment later, it was all over.” A single tear sliding down along your cheek. “They didn't dare to chase me outside. I continued to run in the rain, blood being washed away from the open cuts on my skin, until I was faced with a police patrol inspecting the area nearby.”

_Your mother's eyes open wide when she spots your bloody form, screaming your name and rushing to you with a frightened expression. Your father, still a bit clouded by the alcohol he ingested, is staggering and appears to be confused, but visibly worried about your conditions as well._

“My parents were there too.”

“They were looking for you.”

“Yes.”

_Why did you escape._

_Where have you been._

_Who did that to you._

“I was scared as hell. When they asked me where did that blood come from, I tried to find a plausible explanation. How could I tell them what I saw, what I myself couldn't understand? I did my best to come up with the correct words to use, but that monster was still out there, free to walk around unbeknownst to every human being, something had to be done.”

And so you gave in.

“'A monster attacked me,' I told them. 'She has fangs and claws and bloodthirsty eyes.' Nobody took me too seriously of course, believing my psychological state was tragically compromised due to such a shocking experience.”

Hand pressed against your mouth to suppress a sob, eyes burning as more tears form and trickle down.

“The people living in that building were interrogated right after. And guess what? Nobody seemed to remember about that woman at all! According to their witness, the apartment she was supposed to live in remained empty for more than three fucking years!”

You wipe your tears away. “And, in the police report, no sign of abnormality could be found.”

“And I suppose they never found her shop, either.”

You nod your head. “It was as if it never existed.”

_A little girl of seven escaped from her dwelling due to a stressful moment her family is currently going through. Luckily, she was found in the middle of the street a few hours later not too far from her house, but her physical conditions were quite worrying; blood was flowing from some deep cuts along her arms and shoulders, the child appeared to be seriously weak, scared and psychologically disturbed. She mumbled something about a shapeshifter woman, but the name could not be found in any archive, nor the bookstore she should own.  
The experts suggest the victim was most likely attacked by an aggressive animal somewhere (still needs to be detected and eventually knocked down for everyone's safety) and the little girl's parents opted for one of the best psychiatrists to help their daughter, who is visibly troubled and mentally unstabled._

_The zoos around town and outside do not seem to have issued a statement regarding an alleged escape of one of their animals. The local police is still investigating._

In the following years you have tried to live your life without mentioning the incident again, especially considering how everyone eyed you for your nonsensical story. Despite your recurring nightmares and the memories still perfectly alive in your head, you refused to accept it as a real thing to the point that your own doctors have finally declared you sane and free from any kind of mental distress.

All went well, but nothing was still the same for you. Not anymore.

“I tried to convince myself that what I have seen was not possible and I simply accepted to be helped,” you inhale deeply regaining control of yourself. “My father stopped drinking and got another job, he and my mother a smoochy couple again. But I was living an illusion, surrounded by lies and fake promises. Until...”

Your eyes settle on the mask placed on the head mannequin made of stone, next to a pile of servers and computer screens across the room. The creepy, toothy grin printed on the plastic accessory doesn't look as scary as it did the first time you saw it, on the contrary it almost looks reassuring now, knowing who that mask belongs to.

Instantly, your face lifts as you shift your intense look on Vergil, lips pulled in a loving smile. “Until one day, a mysterious masked man made his first appearance in a hacked broadcast and saved me from my ignorance.”

He smiles back, in that usual magnificent way of his.

“You made me stop questioning my sanity,” fingers sliding on the cold glass. “I woke up, thanks to you.”

You don't even hesitate, not this time. Pushed by a burst of confidence, you take hold of his right hand still resting on the large table for support, squeezing his long gloved fingers and slowly standing from the chair.

“I will always be grateful for that.”

Vergil doesn't waste a single second, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lap before covering the back of it with the other.

“You arrived at this point thanks to your strength and determination. You owe me nothing.”

You shake your head. “You told me the truth about the demons, and your origins as well.”

“Because I trust you.”

“Yes, and that's exactly why I need to thank you. I don't care if that sounds stupid and makes no sense at all, it's just how I feel.”

You spent the entire day trying to run from your feelings, welcoming your fears instead of kicking them away and get what you actually want.

Now, with your hand wrapped in Vergil's and his delicious heat warming your heart, you wonder how far and how long did you really plan to escape.

“I accept your gratitude, then,” his voice bringing you back from your thoughts. “But I should be the one thanking you now, for telling me about your past.”

You deeply sigh. “Yeah, I... I think that helped. I'm still afraid to close my eyes and fall asleep, though...”

Your hand is suddenly released and his palms come to contact with your neck on either sides, thumbs sweetly caressing your jaw and his breath on your lips. “It's okay, don't be afraid. Whatever happens, remember that you are here, safe and sound, away from any demon's reach.”

“I can't control my dreams, Vergil.”

“Yes, you can. It's all in your head. That demon might be powerful and scary, because it's how _you_ remember it. It's nothing more than a memory and memories can't physically hurt you.”

How many times have you said so to yourself, repeating out loud that nothing will ever hurt you until you're well hidden from any form of danger.

It never worked.

Nevertheless, you truly believe in those words now that Vergil sounded so damn convincing.

Touching his wrists, “I'll try, then. Thank you, Vergil.”

Unexpectedly, Vergil draws you closer and lays a soft kiss on your right cheekbone. His lips feel incredibly good and warm and magical on your sensitive, humid skin, your beating undergoes a boost and your heart strikes violently against your chest with powerful thumps.

You relax, placing your trembling hands on his collarbones, warm and deliciously exposed. But, the moment when he parts from your face with a sweet, imperceptible wet sound, a cold sensation washes over that spot he just kissed, added to the enormous void in your guts when he sets you completely free and walks away from his desk, reaching one of his computers with echoing steps.

_Well, that's it?_

“You should rest now. Feel free to take the morning off, if you need.”

You can't help but feel extremely disappointed, staring at his back – muscles outlining its edges – and hugging yourself for the chills crossing your spine and spreading in the rest of your body, whether it depends on the thin nightgown you are wearing or your current restlessness.

You move right after, eyes falling on your feet. You absently follow his path, drawn to him like a magnet, and a in a snap Vergil is in front of you again. A soft material falls on your shoulders embracing your form, covering your arms and part of your chest.

“Take this with you.”

Even in the faint lights of the office you can recognize the familiar embroidered black fabric, just like its exquisite scent.

“Your coat?”

“Heating in the corridors is off, use it to cover yourself until you get to your room.”

Being shorter than him, the tail sewn on the right part of the coat is too long and lays on the floor, but he doesn't seem to mind the possibility of it getting dirty in the process.

And honestly, this is the least of your problems too, with his clothed torso pressed against your folded arms. You almost lost it when he kissed your cheek and allowed you to lean on him in the meantime, if you look at him in this precise moment, all your will power and self control will inevitably break.

“Vergil, I have a question,” you speak, lips incredibly dry. “If that monster really tried to contaminate my system, how come it didn't work?”

He ponders over your query.

“I suppose the dosage was not enough to poison you,” he then explains, hands leaving your shoulders once you firmly grab his coat to hold it on you. “A high dosage could have killed you and that _thing_ clearly needed you alive. But, it probably was not enough and only made you feel sick for a short while.”

All your attention is directed to the blue pendant around his neck, which you have never seen due to his clothes hiding it. You had noticed it when he found you in the common bathroom, but only now you pay attention to the jewel almost glowing in the dark and creating some soft light strokes on his fair skin.

It's so beautiful, just like the man who's wearing it.

“I see,” you say distractedly.

“My mother gave it to me.”

“Uh?”

“The necklace you're so interested in," he sniggers. "Dante has one too, she gave these to us when we were kids, it's a symbol. A bond between my brother and me.”

“Oh," Your cheeks warm up. "Does he know?”

“He doesn't remember, although I suspect a part of him is aware of its importance. Or else he wouldn't wear it after so many years.”

Your fingertips brush on the stone, it is smooth to the touch.

“It must be hard for you... knowing to have a brother out there, and yet you have to stay hidden, watching him from afar. Do you ever feel... alone?”

“I won't lie to you, sometimes I do.”

The first time you met him, Vergil seemed impenetrable, stiff and as sturdy as a wooden bark. There's no trace of that man before your eyes now, the both of you being in need for something, _someone_ , to feel complete again.

Your heart jolts when his index finger rests under your chin lifting it up, thumb stroking your lower lip in an intimate way.

“If nothing else, I have you.”

A bunch of flying butterflies tickle your stomach with their frantic beating of wings, a new glint is visible in his aquamarine gems as they stare at your own eyes, wide open for the amazement filling your soul.

“Seeing you crying tonight destroyed me. I won't let that happen again.”

All your doubts, concerns and insecurities are swept away like leaves in the wind. Never in your life have you been so passionate, neither have your senses been so turned on before.

Keeping your eyes locked to his, you finally let it go.

“Be the reason of my smile, then.”

It is all that your heart desires.


	10. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter is finally here, smut split in two parts.

_"Be the reason of my smile, then.”_

Your words lead to quietness. Stillness and astonishment the only things you can read on Vergil’s frozen face.

Considering that such a declaration came from someone who practically pushed him away earlier, you cannot really blame him for being so visibly puzzled.

“What did you say?”

Do you really have to repeat it? Confess what you hardly revealed all over again?

“You heard me, Vergil.”

“Yes I-I did hear you well. I just thought you had made a different decision.”

You shrug, careful not to let his coat fall from your shoulders. “Because I fled away when you tried to kiss me? I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what, of me?”

“Of us.”

“Of us? Me and you together?”

“Yes.”

Something you have wished for oh so long, yet feared once it transformed into reality.

A reality you couldn't even think possible outside of your daydreams.

“What made you change your mind?”

“You made me.”

Did you hurt him with your cold, immature behavior a few hours back? A stinging sense of guilt makes its way into you.

“I didn't know what to do, I wasn't expecting any of this.”

Just like a hurricane he came, sweeping away all your doubts and questions about what has been inexplicable for an entire existence.

“My social life was a complete disaster, you know... as I tried to keep my distance from any living being around me.”

Truth hidden under a veil of lies, you believed.

“Yet you have adapted quite well here.”

You nod your head. “I know nothing about relationships, however. And the thought of screwing everything up, of you being disappointed or ashamed of me for my inexperience-”

“Don't.” Gloved palm meeting your cheek. “Stop underestimating yourself. I don't care about your past, nor your inexperience. I only care about what we have now, of what we're doing together here.”

Despite the thick material of his glove, Vergil's hand is so warm you can almost feel the contact of his skin directly.

“Don't run away from me.”

His words hit you like a sharp dagger, piercing the shell you have built in the past few years and smashing it into pieces. Nothing remains around you now, the protection you had is lost and permanently destroyed, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to all the possible risks you didn't want to deal with.

But your fears are gone as well, melted away like the invisible armor you no longer have.

So you act, driven by a wave of safety and self-confidence, completing what the man before you had started. Lifting on your tiptoes you let your body guide you, until your lips finally press against his with a delicate touch.

And your mouth becomes extremely hot due to the electric contact.

You can feel it, the shock in his limbs as he remains completely motionless. The hand previously set against your cheek is now stuck in midair, to then fall along his side when you detach from him with a small wet sound and a shaky breath.

You take a short moment to savor Vergil’s taste, raising your eyelids to read the expression formed on his beautiful features.

Judging by the way he's staring at you – eyes open wide – you can tell he was taken off guard, unprepared for something like this to happen.

You smile to him. A sweet, honest and reassuring grin that soon recomposes his lost control. With such a deep gesture you proved him your trust, surrendering to the strong bond that has formed between the two of you so naturally and swiftly..

His mouth crashes over yours for another, deeper kiss. Hands placed on your hips for a good hold and tongues chained together in a rhythmic dance.

You are exploring an unfamiliar territory, but nothing ever felt so right and inebriating. His coat slips from your shoulders the moment you wrap your arms around his neck, neither when your lungs can't take it anymore you accept to break your intoxicating kiss.

You gasp against his mouth when the Nephilim lifts your legs without notice and secures them around his waist moving forward. He steps over his forgotten coat and carries your form to the large desk breathing heavily against your parted lips.

The surface is cold when it meets your backside, but the heat of your skin warms the glass in no time. Your legs unconsciously open more and let him stand right in the middle, his back bends right after and forces you to partially lie down on the large table.

You moan softly when his eager mouth moves hungrily on your neck and collarbone, drawing a small wet path along your pulsing vein and between your breasts.

If only the latex of his gloves wasn’t so rough and distracting against your thighs…

You silently slip your fingers under the annoying material, cursing yourself for being so awfully impatient when his ministrations abruptly stop in a curious manner.  
You keep pulling, anyhow, at the thought of his bare hands (which you never had the chance to see) all over your sensitive body, the sound of removed latex echoing in the whole office as you quickly scatter those uncomfortable accessories over the keyboard.

“How can you even wear those things all the time, I wonder.”

“My hands stay clean, simple as that.” He says in amusement. “How does it feel now?”

You suppress a shiver when his naked fingers brush over your left thigh again, cutting off your fake complain about something you actually found fascinating since the very first time, old bloodstains or not.

“M-much better,” You mutter.

“Good.”

Your own fingertips find their place in his hair, silver locks incredibly soft and silky beneath them. You scrape his nape with your nails when Vergil's mouth is back in action wasting no time, sucking at that sweet, delicate spot behind your ear with more passion and enjoyment.

_Why does it have to feel so good?_

His hands continue with their journey, lifting your nightgown further and further as they gently stroke your heated skin up and down. They linger on your hips for a few seconds, to then touch your belly and contracted stomach with palpable need.

A good fifty shades of pink appears on your cheeks when you remember there’s no bra covering your breasts underneath, and it probably turns into deep red when his hands possessively grab their sides, thumbs indulging over the tips without really touching them.

A deep, thrilling sensation makes your legs vibrate when those fingers finally descend, stroking your nipples gently whilst he keeps devouring your mouth with another breathtaking kiss.

Your elbows are starting to ache on the hard glass and your nightgown is now an undefined piece of cloth, crumpled and rolled up over your tortured chest.

“Tell me to stop now,” he whispers in your ear, thumbs drawing small circles on the tips of your breasts driving you crazy and increasing your own excitement. “Because if you don’t, I won’t be able to control myself.”

It’s quite simple to read his sentence between the lines. Even if it already was clear as water when you told him about your past, Vergil perfectly knows that you’ve never done this before. The thought of you being a virgin probably scares him to no end, the mere idea of hurting you physically, tearing your body apart to then see your disappointment and repentance tomorrow is too much to handle even for someone like him. Someone who surely had the time to acquire all the needed experience when you only cared about a good pile of books to read and the perfect place to hide from the world.

Nevertheless, your answer comes with no ponderation nor traces of doubt. The only thing you are going to regret is the huge amount of time you have wasted, years thrown away living with your fears and distrust instead of being what you were meant to be: a normal girl.

You stopped being a child right after that night, you have lost your smile and the dreams you were collecting. Your plans for the future, the euphoria that oozed out of your every pore… all gone, dissolved and forgotten.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Saying that, your hands slip to his sides and grip the brown shirt he’s wearing, slowly raising it up from his muscled torso. The desire you feel for this man is unbearable at this point and you wouldn’t be able to put an end on this even if you wanted to.

“Are you completely sure?”

He doesn’t protest, though, when you help him to get rid of his clothes with a sudden burst of confidence, pale skin appearing in the dim light emanating from the screens and working servers.

Lips pressed on the right corner of his delicious mouth, hands traveling on his marble abs, pecs and strong shoulders.

_Perfection._

If you never even dared to fantasize about him – or any other man - in a similar dirty way, your brain is now fully asleep as your body prevails, turned on senses and burning core driving you wild like a lioness in heat.

Because all your heart desires is to finally feel alive, complete… with this man here and now.

“I need you, Vergil.”

_More than anything._


	11. Rapture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I made you wait didn't I? I'm so sorry about that dolls, sadly this year has been even worse than the previous one and I could barely concentrate over a book lately, let alone write.
> 
> This new chapter is quite short and quick... but I hope you will enjoy it. It's kinda NSFW, not that explicit but still very graphic. Consider it as my belated Christmas gift for you, 'cause your comments and support truly means a lot to me. Happy New Year!

If someone had told you how your life was about to change the moment you stepped into this office a few months ago, you would have thrown your head back laughing in their face.

The word ‘sex’ was completely foreign to your vocabulary. Sure you knew what sex was and how it worked from start to finish, you simply thought you would never experience such an intimate act with a man between your legs.

Until now.

If you could describe it, you’d certainly define sex in many different ways; painful, almost tearing at first… to the point you have to question your impulsive decision and determine whether it was really the right thing to do or just the biggest mistake of your life. Then pleasurable as soon as the burning feeling dissipates from your core, intense while that hot meat keeps pushing in and out from your body, slowly and gently.

_Passionate, mind blowing, thrilling._

The more Vergil moves inside of you, legs crossed tightly around his waist, the more your heart races and leaves you completely breathless. Your backside rubs continuously on the glass beneath you, your exposed breasts bounce delicately with every thrust, knuckles turning white as you tighten your fingers on the end of the desk for support.

Warm and trembling breath on your face, hot grunts and moans which only make your excitement visibly grow, the cold metal of his open belt scratching your outer thigh.

Your inner muscles caressed and stimulated, nipples impossibly hard and sensitive.

His voice, so low and soft, whispering gentle words in your ear every now and then. Considerate questions made to be sure you are feeling alright.

When you literally beg him to go harder - the increasing desire tingling in your lower region - Vergil loses it completely. Shifting position, he bends forward and places his elbows on either sides of your head moving faster, your own hands resting on his sweated back encouraging the powerful thrusts. Nails delicately tracing the curve of his spine, descending and grazing his buttocks with a light touch... your every gesture seems to be enough to make him tremble and grunt in desperate need.

You can feel his shaft twitching inside of you, his heart beating like a drum against your chest.

It feels so good, _too good._

Despite your inexperience the man on you seems very pleased by your sweet yet enticing ministrations. The way he stares at your face and groans whenever you touch his skin or tighten your legs around his waist is electric and you can’t help but crying out asking for more.

Vergil is clearly eager to satisfy your requests, mouth tracing your jaw, your neck, your breasts, tongue savouring the taste of your skin and the perked nipples that seem to literally scream for him.

_It’s way too much._

You can’t even count the times his name escaped your lips by now, hips pushing harder and harder meeting yours with loud slaps echoing in the room. His pants fall around his knees, the heavy table is somehow sliding backward, the computer screen on it shaking considerably but neither you nor your boss seem to pay attention at all, lost in this moment of pure lust and fiery rapture.

His left hand stealthily runs on your side to stop over the bundle of nerves between your thighs, fingertips drawing fast circles on the swollen bud and inner walls stimulated by his hardness with delicious, increasing strokes.

You can feel it, that well known sensation in the pit of your stomach, toes curling painfully and eyes rolling in the back of your head. The approaching orgasm is strong, aggressive, it makes you explode like a rocket shot from earth to sky. It takes you a moment to come down from your high, eyelids obscuring your vision and thighs loosened, inner muscles spasming without control.

When you’re done, Vergil slides out and lays a soft kiss on your right knee. Taken by curiousity you push yourself up with your forearms, his eyes are dark and full of intoxicating hunger.

“Why did you‒”

Your words are cut off by a new powerful thrust into your core, one leg lifted against a flexing shoulder, the high heel eventually slipping from your foot. His shaft is still incredibly hard, pulsing against your walls, hips jerking forward in need.

_Oh!_

Muscles glistening in the soft lights, servers running in the background and playing a rhythmic tune along with his desperate groans...  
  
There’s just him and only him now. So vulnerable, seeking his own release with gritted teeth and furrowed brows, once so perfect to even seem a living God, now so _human_ and finally free from the mask everyone is used to see and that you managed to break without even noticing.

You return his thrusts then, as long as your body is able to give and resist such an overstimulation. Your slight movements seem to trigger a new fire in him, now grunting and pushing harder, eyes glowing almost unnaturally and resembling liquid gold.

Without any hesitancy, Vergil captures your lips in a sloppy kiss inserting his tongue in your mouth. All your shyness and concerns long gone and forgotten as you kiss him back, moving a few silver strands away from his sweated forehead.

A sudden moan breaks the heated contact, the grip around your leg becomes stronger and you shudder at the feel of cold air brushing against you when the Nephilim removes himself from your insides. However, that is soon replaced by a wave of heat the moment he closes his pale fingers around the needy shaft, pumping frantically until he can’t take it anymore and finally reaches his own climax shaken by tidal waves of ecstasy. Meanwhile, you can’t help but keep your eyes locked on his beautiful twisted features, shuddering breath echoing in the office as he runs the other hand through his uncombed hair.

Not a single word is spoken once everything is over. There only is mutual complicity, a sweet exchange of little kisses and sighs of satisfaction. Vergil wastes no time dressing up and recomposing himself after that, stepping away from his desk to check the running monitors in a corner. You can barely stand when your feet touch the ground again, picking up your scattered panties and putting your shoe back in place. Staring at his form in the shadows you wonder if what happened between the two of you is actually going to change everything or nothing at all. Vergil seemed quite honest when he declared his feelings and he doesn't really look like the type of guy who only plans to toy with your heart and mind.  
  
_But... what if...?_  
  
Biting your lips you cross your arms around your chest when the temperature around you cools down, uncertain whether to join him or simply take your leave through the doors. So you wait, playing with your hair and shifting your graze on the red carpet at your feet.  
  
"My brother will join us in a few weeks," he speaks, breaking the agonizing silence with his usual calm and professional tone. "It won't be easy to convince him, but I expect you to be there with me when the right time comes."  
  
Not exactly what you wanted to discuss, but you nod your head answering with a hesitant "Mh".  
  
But, as if sensing the concern in your voice, Vergil glances at you from over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"  
  
Oh he knows you too well, does he not?  
  
"I hope you're not regretting what happened between us."  
  
You slightly turn your head to meet his gaze, hair slipping away from your fingers in the process. Relief spreads into your guts and chest when you spot the visible apprehension on his face, knitted brows and lips pressed into a thin line.  
  
Talk about paranoia there...  
  
You shake your head. "Do you?"  
  
With a few quick strides he is towering in front of you once more, lips curling up and knuckles gently brushing your heated cheek. "Of course not. That was _amazing_. And you... you were incredible."  
  
Your lips widen into a heartwarming smile as well. "Flatterer," you whisper, lifting on your stiffened tiptoes to encircle his neck with your arms and never let him go. 

No, this is not really the end of it. More likely it is the new real beginning you were looking for.


End file.
